Posted by jeneypeney in a little help from my friends, being appropriate is overrated, drinking stories, freakin' weekend, i wish i was still in college, love bites, poop, save yo drama fo yo mama, TMI Thursdays.
Although LiLu has retired, I have decided to let the legend live on… So prepare yourself for the disgusting, naughty, and downright wrongness that is TMI Thursday.
I have two friends back home in Indiana – we’ll call them Hockey and Football.
Hockey and Football happen to be really good friends with a guy we’ll call Backer Boy.
Before I started chasing after girls in dark hued thongs, they told me about the time someone left shit on Backer Boy’s front porch. It wasn’t on fire… although it was definitely warm.
This is their story.
Once upon a time, there was a boy who dumped his girlfriend. Two years later, this ex girlfriend started bumping uglies with one of Backer Boy’s roommates.
Despite the fact that HE dumped HER over 730 days before, he was not very happy about this new hobby she picked up.
So one night after said ex girlfriend and said roommate left the bar – this boy decided to drink his sorrows away until the lights came on and last call was announced. Did he go home for the night to sleep off his Drunky McSloppiness?
Wouldn’t be TMI Thursday is he did!
This inordinately toasted, irrational man walked to Backer Boy’s house and proceeded to yell and curse and CLIMB the house in an attempt to see if his ex-girlfriend was in fact, sleeping with the roommate.
All while Backer Boy and the roommate were watching out their window.
After about an hour of Mr. Asshat pretty much acting as if someone canceled his World of Warcraft account, he decided he had enough.
So he walked up to their front door, dropped trow, and shit on their front step.
Yes, you heard me right.
He. shit. on. their. front. step.
And guess what? The ex-girlfriend wasn’t even there.
Posted by jeneypeney in being appropriate is overrated, i'm a moron, poop, TMI Thursdays.
Alright, folks, you know the rules. Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, “how many readers can I estrange THIS week??” TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else’s!
I have the glorious and wonderful gift of have my own private toilet at work. I would be lying if I said this fact didn’t aid in my decision to accept my position.
This is an obvious blessing. I do not have to worry about anyone else smelling or hearing or wondering about my bathroom activities.
However, this is also a curse. I have no one to blame explain any odd bathroom behavior to the custodians when they clean. Or to any random coach that may decide the locker room is too far away, for that matter.
Let’s say a night full of Arby’s loaded baked potato bites and Taco Bell five layer burritos has decided to come back and say hello to the lower end of your digestive system. And this has caused one to drop off a child of epic proportions at the pool.
You know, the kind of ‘kid’ that won’t fit down the ‘water slide’?
The kind of ‘kid’ one might just blame on some poor schmuck in a public bathroom?
Nothin’ doin’, home slice. I had to pull a quasi-LiLu (I had the aid of a plastic knife I had in my desk) and break that shit up. Literally.
Ha!
Ew. Gross.
Sorry.
Thank god have latex gloves and an industrial sized container of antibacterial hand wash in my office, too.
(And now I have turned this post into a plot line for an awful porno.)
I'm still trying to figure out this whole "growing up" thing everyone keeps talking about.
